


Eden Reborn

by AngelJenesis



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-09
Updated: 2019-07-18
Packaged: 2020-06-25 04:59:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19738807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngelJenesis/pseuds/AngelJenesis
Summary: This story takes place several years after the averted apocalypse. Warlock has moved back to England, where he met and married Pepper. They have been married for a few years and have a young daughter together. After nearly losing their daughter, Pepper and Warlock begin to notice a mysterious stranger who keeps appearing in their lives with no explanation. They turn to Adam Young looking for answers, but they may have gotten more than they bargained for. It turns out that the apocalypse was not truly averted, but simply delayed. The friends have to work together to prepare to face this new threat.





	1. Healing the Past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warlock starts coming to grips with his strange childhood

Warlock sat on the porch of the cottage staring absentmindedly into the Tadfield sunset. Sometimes he questioned if he had made the right decision coming back to England after university. On the one hand, this was the last place he’d truly felt what he would call at home. Or at peace. And he had needed some distance from his father. Actual distance, not emotional. That sort of distance had never been in short supply.  
On the other hand, he worried for his mother since the divorce. At a glance she seemed alright he supposed. But she spent too much time alone and, he suspected, drank more than she ought to. Granted, she had never been happy in her marriage. But divorce was always hard he supposed. His brow creased with worry as he thought of her. He picked up his phone and dialed her number. She picked up on the second ring.  
“Hey sweetie,” she said. “Now’s not a great time. Can I call you back later?”  
“Sure thing, mum,” he replied. She’d already hung up the line.  
He sighed as he set down his phone. Well, at least she was ok. He settled back into deep thought as the sun sank lower into the horizon. All in all, he supposed, he couldn’t regret coming here. After all, if he had stayed in America he never would have met his wife. His life was here with her now. As though conjured by his thought she stepped through the doorway, their daughter Grace balanced on her hip.  
“You coming?” she asked. “It’s her bedtime.”  
“Is it?” he asked, looking at the phone to check the time.  
Pepper merely arched an eyebrow at his turned back.  
“Da,” the girl said loudly, giggling as she reached for him.  
“Right,” he said, “Coming.”  
He took her in his arms and carried her into the nursery and laid her down in her bed. He pulled the blanket up close under her chin and kissed her cheek before stepping aside to let Pepper do the same. He withdrew to the doorway and watched with a small smile as she sang their daughter a lullaby. It was another of the happy ones that she always sang. He liked those. Grace was asleep before the song was even finished. They shut her door carefully, quietly, and made their way to the couch.  
Pepper propped her feet up in Warlock’s lap and they settled into an amiable silence, each lost in the pages of their respective books. They had been sitting this way for some time when a thought occurred to Warlock. He set his book aside.  
“Hey, honey?” he said.  
“Hmm?” she replied, not looking up from her book.  
“When do we start singing her the other ones?”  
She looked over at him as she closed her book, marking her page with her finger.  
“The other ones?” she asked.  
“Yeah,” he said. “You know, the other lullabies?”  
She tilted her head slightly in puzzlement.  
“How do you mean?”  
“You know,” he said, shifting slightly. “’Go to sleep and dream of pain, doom and darkness, blood and brains.’ That sort of thing.”  
Pepper stared at him incredulously for a moment before schooling her features back into a more neutral expression. She cleared her throat pointedly and simply looked at him, lips pursed and eyebrows raised.  
“Oh,” he said as comprehension dawned on him. “Oh. This is another one of those things, isn’t it?”  
“Yeah,” she said, nodding slowly. “Just a bit.”  
He’d come to understand that certain aspects of his childhood had been decidedly…odd. But sometimes he didn’t realize just how odd it had been. And there were still times when he just flat out didn’t realize something was odd at all until someone pointed it out to him. That someone was always Pepper. It was one of the things that he’d first fallen in love with about her. She was the only one with stones enough to tell him to his face that something he’d said sounded bonkers. Everyone else just sort of laughed nervously and changed the subject or abruptly stopped making eye contact.  
He closed his eyes as he breathed out a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger.  
“You want to talk about it?” she asked.  
“No,” he said after a moment. “Not really.”  
The truth was, he did want to talk about it, quite a lot actually. He just didn’t want to unload all of his baggage on her.  
“Yeah you do,” she said gently.  
Perceptive as always, he thought. He didn’t answer.  
“Look,” she said finally. “You don’t have to talk to me if you don’t want to. But you should talk to someone. Have you considered going back to Dr. Benson? Or Dr. Evans?”  
“No,” he said. “Dr. Benson never believes a word I say about any of it. You can just see it in his face. And Dr. Evans actually told me as much. Something about attention seeking or something. That’s the whole reason I stopped going in the first place.”  
“So find another doctor,” she said, spreading her hands in a gesture that said obviously.  
Warlock was dubious, but her tone brooked no argument.  
“Alright,” he conceded. “I’ll look into it tomorrow.”  
  
***  
Warlock sat with his hands folded neatly in his lap on the straight-backed plastic chair in Dr. Carlisle’s quiet office. She had a couch and even a well-loved looking recliner that he could have chosen. But those had seemed a bit too comfortable for his liking. The chair allowed him to maintain a bit more of a guarded posture, which made him feel, if not more at ease, then at least more in control.  
This was his third session here and he still didn’t quite feel at home with any of it. He supposed, though, that it was necessary. Dr. Carlisle believed him at least. Or at the very least she had control enough over her facial expressions not to give away any disbelief that she had been feeling.  
Currently, she was sitting back in her padded swivel chair, fingers steepled beneath her chin as she waited for him to compose his thoughts and continue his story. The silence drew out for several long moments before she finally spoke.  
“Tell me more about this gardener, then,” she prompted. “Brother Francis.”  
Warlock pursed his lips for a moment as he tried to decide how best to describe him.  
“He was just…odd I suppose. Not in a bad way or anything. He just had this sort of…feeling about him,” he finally said.  
“What sort of feeling?” Dr. Carlisle asked.  
“I don’t know, really…love? I suppose?”  
“You mean that he loved you?” she clarified.  
“No,” he said. “Well, I mean, yeah, he did. That’s not what I mean though. Like, love for all living things. He used to even say that. That I needed to have love and respect for all living things or something like that.”  
“Good advice,” she commented.  
“Yeah,” he said. He paused for a long moment. “Nanny Ashtoreth didn’t seem to agree much.”  
“Oh?” she said.  
“No,” he continued. “In fact, she used to say just the opposite. That living things were only fit to be ground under my heel, that kind of thing. She used to sing me lullabies about it.”  
Dr. Carlisle blinked rapidly in surprise.  
“You don’t believe me,” he said.  
“No, I do,” she said, composing herself. “I just think it’s appalling that anyone would speak to a child in that way.”  
Warlock laughed wryly.  
“I suppose you’re right,” he said. “She wasn’t so bad as she sounds, though. And she loved me too, I always knew that. To tell you the truth, it wasn’t until much later that I realized how odd it all was.”  
“Sometimes it’s like that,” she said.  
“Yeah, I suppose,” he said. He paused and then continued. “You know, it always felt almost like they were my mum and dad, in a way.”  
“Oh?” she prompted.  
“Yeah. I mean, my dad was always so caught up in his work he barely looked at me. Well, except when he needed me around for a photo op.”  
As he said it, something tugged at the edge of his memory. He couldn’t quite place what it was. He brushed the thought aside and tried to focus on things that were a little more relevant at the moment.  
“My mum…well, she had her own problems to deal with. She tried, I suppose,” he said.  
“But you had more of a connection with Nanny Ashtoreth and Brother Francis?”  
“Yeah,” he said. “I really did.”  
“It’s good that you had them then.”  
“Yeah,” he said. “Until I was 11 anyway.”  
“Oh?” she said. “What happened when you were 11?”  
He hesitated.  
“I’m not really sure,” he finally said. “They were just…gone.”  
“I’m really sorry you had to go through that,” she said.  
And he could tell that she meant it. Maybe, he thought, Dr. Carlisle was alright.


	2. A Chance Encounter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a near brush with death and a strange encounter in London, Pepper and Warlock start noticing something odd. Pepper contacts Adam Young searching for answers

Warlock walked along the sidewalk with Pepper as Grace toddled between them. They were spending the day in the city together as they had started doing from time to time. It was becoming something of a family tradition.  
Periodically Grace would try to pull her hands free of theirs. They’d let go and watch her toddle a few steps before trotting to catch up to her and planting her small, chubby hands firmly in their grasp again. She was learning to walk remarkably well.  
It took them both by surprise when she abruptly changed directions. Something in the street had caught her eye and she lurched toward it with a purpose – right into the path of an oncoming car. The next few seconds happened very, very fast and yet somehow simultaneously stretched into an eternity.  
Warlock’s heart was a chunk of ice lodged in his throat as he and Pepper dove after her, much too slow to ever reach her in time. The next several moments were a blur.  
Warlock didn’t even see it coming or have a chance to brace for impact before he was struck and thrown backwards onto the sidewalk. Chest aching and disoriented he sat up and tried to get his bearings. Pepper lay on the sidewalk next to, stirring slightly.  
“Grace,” she murmured.  
Grace.  
Warlock scrambled toward the street, a cold dread taking root in his gut. The air was too silent and he was terrified of what he was about to find. Before the thought could fully form in his mind, he felt a firm hand grasp his arm and he was lifted to his feet.  
“My daughter,” he said brokenly, still trying to make his way to the street.  
“Safe.”  
“Wh—,” Warlock began, turning toward the voice.  
As he turned, the owner of the voice planted Grace in his arms. He clutched her to his chest in relief. Before he could gather his wits enough to stammer a thank you, the figure turned and walked away.  
“Wait!” he said as the figure departed.  
The man did not turn back. He raised a hand as though in farewell and kept walking. Dumbfounded, Warlock turned and helped Pepper to her feet. When he turned and scanned the crowd again, the stranger was gone. Grace, oblivious to it all, giggled and patted her father’s face.  
“Who was that?” Pepper asked.  
“I don’t—Jesus!” he broke off as he got a good look at her face. A trail of blood streaked the left side of her face. He cupped her chin gently in his hand and turned her face to get a better look at her injury.  
“Honey, are you ok?” he asked her.  
“Yeah, I—oh," she said as she touched her fingers to her temple and they came away wet with blood.  
“We should get that looked at,” he told her.  
“I’m fine,” she protested.  
“But—”  
“I said I’m fine,” she told him firmly. “It’s obviously stopped bleeding anyway.”  
“Ok,” he finally conceded after a moment. He knew better than to argue the point with her. “Let’s get home and get you cleaned up at least.”  
“Yeah,” she agreed. As they turned to leave, they both cast a glance in the direction the stranger had disappeared.  
***  
By the time they got back home Grace was sound asleep in the back seat. Warlock carried her into the house and to her bedroom, taking care not to wake her. Pepper went to find a cloth and started cleaning up the blood on her face.  
“Here,” Warlock said. “Let me help.”  
She rolled her eyes slightly, but she conceded and handed him the cloth with a small smile.  
“Still asleep then?” she asked as he began to dab at the crusted blood.  
“Yeah,” he confirmed. “Still asleep.”  
Neither of them said anything for a long moment.  
“I thought…” she began, tears in her voice. She let the thought break off and hang in the air.  
“I know,” he said, his voice breaking. “I know. Me too.”  
He wrapped his arms around her and they stood that way in silence for a while. Then he pulled back and started dabbing at the blood on her temple again.  
“Thank god for…whoever that was,” he finally said.  
“Yeah,” she agreed softly. “No idea who it was?”  
“No,” he said. He paused. “I mean, there was something familiar about him. But I can’t quite place it.”  
“Yeah,” she said. “Same here.”  
“Maybe—,” he started. But he stopped short. The blood was all cleaned up now, but…  
“Hun…,” he began.  
“What?” she said.  
“Um. Hold on, just a sec.”  
He left the room for a moment and returned with a small mirror. He handed it to her. She gave him an odd look as she took the mirror from him. She examined her face in the mirror and her eyes went wide.  
“No cut,” she said in disbelief as she looked up and met his eyes.  
“No cut,” he answered. She looked back down at the mirror, pushing her hair aside as if she might find the cut hiding behind an errant strand of hair.  
“Maybe it was…someone else’s blood?”  
“Ok,” he said. “Whose?”  
She opened her mouth, but every explanation she could think of rang hollow.  
“What the hell is going on?” she finally said.  
***  
Days went by, and the days turned to weeks, and the weeks to months. They didn’t find an answer to the mystery and after a while it faded into the background, in the way of such things that go unanswered. Which is to say that it faded into the background, but it didn’t fade entirely away. It still nagged at them, from the edges of the shadows, the way that a leaf caught on the breeze might catch in your vision from the corner of your eye.  
Warlock never mentioned any of it to Dr. Carlisle. She was the first therapist he’d had who seemed to take him somewhat seriously. Besides, they had plenty to discuss without bringing it up.  
Nearly a year later, they had all but given up on finding an answer.  
They were on holiday in America to visit Warlock’s family. Well, to visit his mother anyway, as it had turned out. His father had been called away on business right after they arrived and still didn’t know when he might be returning. It was just as well, Warlock supposed. It saved them the trouble of trying to split their time between the two of them. Or worse yet, bringing the two of them together. He shuddered at the thought.  
It was their last day in town and they were walking together through the city park. Harriet and Pepper walked on either side of Warlock while Grace sat atop his shoulders, grasping at the leaves of the trees they passed under. When she finally managed to grasp a handful, she beat them against the side of Warlock’s face, laughing gleefully. Harriet arched an eyebrow.  
Pepper laughed softly as she pulled out her phone and switched on the camera. After trotting a couple of steps ahead she walked backward for a couple more steps as she snapped a couple of quick photos of the impromptu thrashing.  
“For posterity,” she said, waggling the phone before slipping it back into her pocket.  
“Gee, thanks,” Warlock said, rolling his eyes and laughing.  
Harriet forced a tight smile as they kept walking.  
None of them noticed anything out of the ordinary until a week later.  
Warlock had just finished the last bit of unpacking from the trip.  
“Honey,” Pepper called from the other room. “Can you come here for a moment?”  
“Coming,” Warlock said, shoving the suitcase he’d just finished unpacking into a closet. When he entered the room, Pepper held out her phone to him.  
“You need to see this,” she said.  
He shot her a questioning look as he took the phone from her and sat down next to her. He studied the picture she had pulled up on the screen. It was the picture she had taken in the park. She’d gotten a good shot too. She’d managed to time it just right to capture the exact moment Grace’s branch had hit him in the face. Well, one of the exact moments anyway.  
“Yeah,” he said, laughing as he handed the phone back to her. “That’s one for posterity alright.”  
She sighed and rolled her eyes as she took the phone back from him. Wordlessly she zoomed in on the background of the picture before handing it back to him.  
“Ok,” he said. “What—”  
And then he froze. He stared speechlessly at the picture for a long moment. Finally, he looked back up at Pepper.  
“Oh my god,” he said.  
“Yeah. Oh my god,” she replied evenly.  
“It’s the guy from London,” he said disbelievingly.  
“Oh,” she said, “not just London.”  
“I’m sorry?” he said.  
“Take a look,” she said, nodding toward the phone.  
He turned his attention back to the phone and began to swipe through her past photos. The man in the dark glasses was in the background of almost every single one of them. He leaned back and passed his hand over his face.  
“Ok,” he said slowly. “So…what? He’s just been…I don’t know, following us? Stalking us? Ever since London?”  
“Not exactly,” she said.  
“Well, what would you call it?” he asked.  
“I’m not sure what I’d call it,” she said. “But whatever you want to call it, it was going on long before London.”  
“Before London?” he said.  
“Mmhmm,” she nodded. “Years before, by the look of it. He’s even in some of our wedding pictures.”  
“You’re not serious,” he said, staring at her.  
She gave him a longsuffering look and a slow nod. He let out a long slow breath.  
“Ok,” he said after a moment. “Maybe he’s…a relative?”  
“That neither of us has ever met?” she countered.  
“A distant relative?” he said.  
She gave him a look that said exactly how ridiculous she thought he was being.  
“Ok. A…very distant relative?”  
She stared at him incredulously for a moment before she replied.  
“No, I’m sure you’re right,” she finally said. “I’m sure he’s a very distant relative, who somehow manages to turn up wherever we are, and never bothers to pop in and say hello. And that’s without even mentioning the other thing.”  
“Right,” he said. “Point taken.”  
Of course, by ‘the other thing’ she meant the entire London incident. After neither of them had been able to come up with a logical, sane explanation for the whole thing they had reached a sort of unspoken agreement simply not to discuss it anymore.  
“Don’t you think it’s odd, though, that we never noticed him before now?” he asked.  
“Of course it’s odd. The whole thing is odd,” she replied.  
He had to concede her point on that one. They sat in silence for a moment, both of them studying the photograph that was currently pulled up on her phone.  
“You know,” he finally said. “I think I know who he reminds me of.”  
“Oh yeah?” she said, perking up with interest.  
“Yeah,” he said. “My old nanny.”  
“Oh, come on,” she laughed. “I thought you had some real answers for a moment there.”  
“I’m serious,” he said, laughing along with her. “I mean, you know. If she were a man. And hadn’t aged since I was a kid.”  
“Ok,” she said, rolling her eyes. “I’m going to bed.”  
***  
The next morning as they sat at the table Pepper absently pushed the last bits of her food around her plate. She was trying to remember the dream she had been having just before she woke up. It was one of those dreams whose scent and feeling still cling to you after waking, but the substance of which dance in the shadows, just barely out of reach.  
Grace was eating her breakfast slowly and yet somehow still managing to make a fantastic mess of it.  
“Mine,” she declared, reaching over and swiping a piece of food from Pepper’s plate.  
“No,” Pepper scolded halfheartedly, moving her plate out of reach. “Not yours. Mummy’s.”  
“Mine,” Grace insisted, still reaching for the plate.  
“No,” Pepper told her again, standing up to bring the plate to the sink. “Eat your own breakfast. There’s a good girl.”  
Grace grudgingly turned her attention back to her own plate.  
“Everything alright?” Warlock asked when she returned to the table.  
“Hmmm? Oh. Yeah, fine. I was just… I don’t know. Trying to remember something.”  
“What kind of something?” he asked.  
“Just a dream,” she said. “It’s nothing.”  
“I had a rather odd dream myself. What was it a dream of?”  
“Well if I knew that I wouldn’t still be trying to remember, now would I?” There was no real bite in the words.  
“Fair enough,” Warlock laughed. “What do you remember?”  
“I’m not sure,” she said slowly. “It was… I don’t know. It seemed real I suppose. Almost more like I’m trying to pull up a memory than a dream. You know?”  
“Yeah,” he said. “I suppose. What else do you remember?”  
“It was important. Whatever was happening, I mean. We were doing something important.”  
“Was I there?” he asked with mild interest.  
“No,” she said thoughtfully. “Don’t think so anyway. Wensleydale was there, and Brian. Adam was there. And…”  
Her eyes went wide as the rest of the details of the dream clicked into place. She turned and looked at Warlock.  
“What? What is it?” he said.  
“Our friend from London was there too.”  
“Ok? Well that doesn’t mean anything. This whole thing’s been so weird, it’s no wonder he’d turn up in your dream.”  
“I don’t think you understand,” she said, shaking her head. “I’ve had this dream before.”  
“What do you mean before?”  
“I mean before. Like when I was a kid.”  
“Oh,” he said.  
She paused for a moment, trying to collect her thoughts.  
“I need to have a word with Adam,” she finally said.  
“Ok,” Warlock said.  
He wasn’t sure what Adam had to do with anything, beyond having been in the dream, but he wasn’t about to argue with her. He picked up her phone from the small table where it had been sitting and handed it to her. She mouthed a brief thank you at him as she dialed the number and waited for Adam to pick up.  
“Pepper,” he said when he picked up the phone. “Long time. How’s Warlock? And Grace?”  
“Both fine,” she said. “But I need a word with you.”  
“Oh?”  
“Yeah,” she said. “You remember that dream I used to have? When we were kids?”  
There was a long pause on the other end of the line.  
“Yeah,” he finally said guardedly. “I remember.”  
Pepper hesitated. Now that she had him on the line, she wasn’t exactly sure how to proceed.  
“Ok,” she finally said. “This is going to sound a bit bonkers. But… one of the men from the dream has sort of… turned up.”  
“How do you mean, turned up?”  
“I mean he turned up. Or rather, he keeps turning up. Everywhere.”  
“Oh.”  
“You remember when Grace walked in front of the car in London last year? And…I’m still not sure exactly what happened, but anyway, some man handed Grace to Warlock and then just… disappeared?”  
“Yeah…”  
“That was him. The one from my dream, that was him.”  
Warlock stared at her.  
“I see,” Adam said slowly.  
He covered the phone with his hand, and she heard him talking in muffled tones to someone in the background.  
“Right then,” he told her as he came back on the line. “You should come over. See you soon.”  
He hung up the phone without another word.  
“I hate when he does that,” she muttered to herself.  
“What did he say?” Warlock asked.  
“Not much,” she said with a shrug. “He wants us to come over.”  
They stood there for a moment in silence.  
“Alright,” he finally said. “I’ll get my coat.”


	3. A Familiar Face

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pepper and Warlock go to visit Adam Young hoping he can provide some answers about Pepper's strange dream. While there, Warlock unexpectedly comes face to face with an important piece of his past.

Pepper parked the car in front of Adam’s place and shut off the engine. Warlock got out and opened the back door and unbuckled Grace from her car seat. He settled her on his hip before meeting Pepper in front of the car.   
“Alright,” he said. “Shall we?”  
“I suppose,” she said. “Wouldn’t have killed him to say what this was all about.”  
“Yeah, well,” he said. “It is Adam. I mean…”   
“Yeah,” she said with a sigh. “You’re right.”  
She realized that he hadn’t actually said it was about anything. Maybe he’d just decided it was time for them to see each other and catch up. Heaven knew that he could be a bit eccentric at times. Maybe this was all nothing. But considering the strangeness of the dream, and his reaction to it, she somehow doubted that.  
They walked up to the front door together and Warlock rang the bell. Adam opened the door before the sound of the bell had fully subsided.  
“Hello, Pepper. Warlock,” he said cheerfully. “And hello, Grace.”  
Grace smiled and reached for him. Warlock handed her to Adam. Something about Adam’s eyes struck him as odd, but he couldn’t quite place it. After a moment the feeling passed, and he shrugged it off.  
“Did you miss your Uncle Adam?” he was cooing to the girl.   
“Miss!” she cried delightedly, clapping her hands together.  
“And I missed you as well,” he told her with mock graveness. He turned his attention back to Pepper and Warlock. “So good to see you both. You’re looking well.”  
He paused for a moment. They opened their mouths to reply, but Adam seemed not to notice.  
“We need to talk to course,” he said. This time the gravity in his tone was genuine. “I hope you don’t mind, I took the liberty of getting a sitter for Grace. We can go out and get a drink or something while we discuss…” he trailed off.  
“Oh,” Pepper and Warlock both said in surprise. They exchanged a glance.  
“That’s… fine I guess. If Pepper doesn’t mind,” Warlock said, glancing at his wife again.  
“I suppose that’s alright,” she said dubiously.   
“Ok, great!” Adam said, pulling out his phone.   
“Adam,” said Pepper. “What’s all this about?”  
He gave her nothing in reply beyond an indiscernible look. After a long moment he turned his attention back to his phone, dialed a number, and waited. A few seconds later someone picked up.   
“Yeah,” he said. “Ready for you now.”   
He ended the call and placed the phone back in his pocket.  
“She’ll be here shortly,” he said with a smile. He gestured to his sitting room. “In the meantime, shall we?”  
Pepper and Warlock followed him into the sitting room. They sat down on the large sofa that dominated the room. Adam sat down in a soft, worn looking chair and situated Grace on his knee. She gazed around the room curiously.   
“Ok,” Pepper said. “Adam, what is going on. You’re acting weird. Well, weirder.”  
“Yeah,” Warlock agreed. “Just a bit.”  
Adam gave them a tight smile.  
“Just be patient,” he told them. “I don’t want to get into it in front of Grace. Let’s just wait for the sitter to get here.”  
“Ok,” Pepper said slowly.  
They sat in awkward silence for several seconds. Warlock cast about for something to say. It should have been easy. He had been good friends with Adam ever since Pepper had introduced the two of them and it had been awhile since they had seen each other. They should have plenty to talk about. But he was coming up empty. The atmosphere in the room drowned any consideration of small talk. He breathed a sigh of relief when the doorbell rang.  
“Ah,” said Adam. “That’ll be her now.”  
He stood up and set Grace on the couch between Pepper and Warlock before crossing the room and opening the door. He ushered a striking woman in dark glasses into the room.   
Warlock felt like his heart had stopped beating. He felt numb. Slowly he stood up, staring at the woman in disbelief.  
“Pepper, Warlock,” Adam began. The woman looked at him sharply as he said Warlock’s name, but Adam didn’t notice the look. “This is—”  
“Nanny Ashtoreth,” Warlock finished for him.  
“What?” Pepper and Adam said in unison.   
No one said anything for a beat. Then everyone started talking at once. Everyone except for Warlock. He stood looking from one person to the next as they spoke. His own words seemed to have left him for the moment.  
“You’re Nanny Ashtoreth? The Nanny Ashtoreth?” Pepper said.   
“Oh, dear,” the woman said.   
Adam turned slowly and gave her a level stare.  
“You came here,” he said, each word measured, controlled, and thick with disbelief, “dressed…as his nanny?”  
“You said to wear a disguise!” she shouted.  
“Yeah, as someone he wouldn’t recognize, that’s the whole point of a disguise!”  
“Well maybe if you had told me I would be babysitting for Warlock—”   
“Well, who did you think I meant?!” he interrupted exasperatedly.  
“You just said your two friends who got married!”  
“Yeah!” Adam said in the same exasperated tone, gesturing wildly with his hands.  
“I thought Pepper married Wensleydale!”  
Adam and Pepper stared at her incredulously for a moment.  
“Why would Pepper marry Wensleydale?!” Adam cried.  
“Why would I marry Wensleydale?!” Pepper shouted at the exact same time.  
“I don’t know!”   
“You left me,” Warlock said quietly.   
And just like that, silence fell over the room. All eyes turned to him. A pained look crossed Nanny Ashtoreth’s face.  
“I didn’t,” she said softly.  
“You did,” he replied. “You just… disappeared.”  
“No,” she said.   
“Well, what do you call it then?” Pepper chimed in. She stood and slowly laced her fingers with Warlock’s.   
Nanny Ashtoreth squeezed her eyes shut for a long moment before exchanging a look with Adam.  
“I can’t explain it right now,” she said. She paused. “I should go.”  
“Actually,” Adam said, “We still need you to um….”  
He nodded toward Grace, who stood wide eyed in the middle of the room, as she had for the entire exchange. Pepper, Warlock, and Nanny Ashtoreth turned and stared at Adam. Warlock squeezed Pepper’s hand before unlacing their fingers and bending to pick Grace up.  
“You cannot be serious,” he said.  
“Please,” said Adam. “Just trust me.”  
“It’s not you I don’t trust,” Warlock replied pointedly. Nanny Ashtoreth winced at the remark.  
“You can trust her,” Adam said gently.   
Warlock hesitated. There was something going on here that he wasn’t getting, he just couldn’t figure out what. But he did trust Adam.  
“Christ,” he said under his breath. “Ok. Fine.”  
“You sure about this?” Pepper asked him.  
“Yeah,” he told her. “I think so.”  
He walked over to his old nanny and stood there for a moment. She seemed about to say something and then thought better of it. He sighed and gently handed Grace to her.  
“This is Nanny Ashtoreth,” he told his daughter. “She’s going to look after you while your mum and I go and talk with Uncle Adam, ok?”  
“Ok,” she repeated.  
“She’s going to take good care of you,” he said, making pointed eye contact with Nanny Ashtoreth as he said it.  
He ruffled her hair before walking out the door. Pepper stopped and gave her a kiss on the cheek before she walked out. She said nothing to Nanny Ashtoreth, but she did give her a look that anyone who saw would know as a warning. Adam followed them out and shut the door.   
A moment later the door opened, and Warlock stuck his head in.  
“No lullabies,” he said in a very stern tone.  
“Of course, dear,” she replied.


	4. Unanswered Questions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pepper and Warlock attempt to get answers from Adam, who is becoming increasingly more erratic.

Adam started walking down the street. Pepper and Warlock shared a puzzled look as Pepper held her hand out in a gesture that said ‘what on earth is he doing?’ Warlock shrugged and shook his head.  
“Hey,” Pepper called after Adam. “We can take the car, you know.”  
“Hmm? Oh. It’s fine. This will be better. Need to…”   
He paused for a moment and gestured vaguely with one hand in the air.  
“Clear my head,” he continued. “Come on.”  
Pepper and Warlock exchanged another look before trotting to catch up with him.   
“So where are we going exactly?” Pepper asked.  
Adam didn’t answer. Warlock frowned. He was starting to get truly worried now. Eccentric was one thing, but this was something else altogether. The three of them walked on for some time in a silence punctuated only by the sound of their footsteps and the occasional worried glance shared between Pepper and Warlock. Finally, Adam turned and started toward a building. It was the pub, Pepper realized.  
“Oh,” she said. “You were… being serious about going for a drink then.”  
Adam turned and faced her.  
“Sure,” he said. “Why not?”  
“Adam,” Warlock said. “It’s the middle of the morning.”  
Adam grunted wordlessly and looked around, studying his surroundings as though seeing them for the first time.  
“Suppose so,” he said absentmindedly.   
Warlock narrowed his eyes as he studied Adam. There it was again, that slight something that was just a little bit off in Adam’s eyes. He still couldn’t for the life of him figure out what it was. Adam nodded as though to himself. He closed his eyes and took a long, deep breath and then slowly let in out. When he opened his eyes again, he seemed to have regained his composure a bit.   
“Right. Breakfast then,” he said cheerfully.  
He crossed the street to a small cafe and Warlock and Pepper followed him inside. He chose a booth in the far corner. Pepper and Warlock sat down across from him. No one spoke until the waitress came to take their orders.   
“What can I get for you?” she asked with a pleasant smile.  
“Just coffee, thanks,” said Warlock.  
“Tea,” said Pepper.  
“Nothing to eat?” Adam asked. “My treat.”  
“Already ate,” Pepper replied, eying him cautiously.  
Adam shrugged and ordered a large breakfast for himself.   
“Ok,” the waitress said cheerfully. “I’ll have it right out to you.”  
She left and quickly came back with their drinks. No one even made an attempt at small talk. Adam absently swirled the contents of his glass. Warlock took a sip from his coffee, making no real effort to hide the fact that he was studying Adam curiously over the top of his coffee mug. Pepper slowly and deliberately stirred milk and sugar into her tea.   
“Ok,” she finally said, taking a sip of the tea. “What is actually going on. This is ridiculous.”  
Adam stopped swirling his glass and sat motionless for a moment. Then he sighed and set the glass on the table.  
“Ok,” he said.   
He laced his fingers loosely together and rested his index fingers against his lips as he searched for the right words. Then he rested his hands on the table and tapped one finger on the table for a moment. Finally, he looked up and met her eyes.  
“Ok,” he said again. His next words were slow and measured. “I’m slipping.”  
“Slipping?” Pepper asked dubiously.  
“You mean, like… mentally?” Warlock asked, thinking of the trip over to the café.  
Adam barked out a bitter laugh.  
“Not exactly,” he said.  
They fell silent for a moment as the waitress arrived with Adam’s food. She eyed them nervously. Pepper and Warlock offered her tense smiles.   
“Ok,” Pepper said once she had gone. “What do you mean, slipping? Slipping how?”  
Adam hesitated. He slid his plate to the side, untouched.  
“How much do you remember?” he asked her with a burning intensity in his eyes.  
“Remember about what?” she asked, slightly unsettled by the way that he was looking at her.  
“What you called me about,” he said. “This morning.”  
“You mean the dream?” she asked doubtfully.  
“Memory,” he corrected, leaning forward.  
“Sorry?”  
“Never mind,” he said, waving his hand. “Dream. Whatever. How much do you remember?”  
Pepper exchanged a worried look with Warlock.  
“Um,” she said. “Well, we were at the airbase. You and me and Brian and Wensleydale. Bunch of other people, too. We were fighting someone. Well, several someones. And there were two men there….”  
She trailed off. She had been so worried about Adam that she had all but forgotten about the man in the dark glasses. She looked at Adam intently.   
“And one of them,” she said, “is the man from that day in London.”  
“Brilliant!” he crowed. “What else do you remember?”  
“Not much,” she said, shaking her head slowly.  
“Anything?” he asked. “Anything at all? Something about me, maybe?”  
“No,” she said. “Sorry.”  
Adam leaned back and let out a frustrated cry.  
“What about you?” he said, turning to Warlock. “Any strange memories? Er, dreams?”  
“I uh… I did have a pretty strange dream about a guy with frog hands on his face,” he said, leaning slightly away from Adam. “But I hardly think that’s relevant here.”  
Adam closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose.   
“Nothing else?” he asked, opening his eyes again.   
Pepper could have sworn she saw a flash of red just around his irises, a glowing ember that was there only for the barest sliver of a moment and then gone. It faded before she had even fully begun to wonder about it. She dismissed it as wild fancy.  
“Either of you?” he prompted.  
“No,” she said.   
“Sorry, no,” Warlock said uncomfortably.   
Adam swore under his breath as he leaned his head back and stared at the ceiling.  
“My fault, really,” he mumbled.  
“What?” Warlock said.  
“Adam, what is this about?” Pepper asked in the exasperated tone of someone who has grown tired of asking what this is about.  
“What is this about,” he echoed. “You know what, call me when you remember.”  
And with that he stood up and stalked out of the café. Pepper exchanged a baffled look with Warlock before running after him.   
“Ok,” Warlock said to himself. “Well that answered absolutely nothing.”  
He pulled out his billfold and laid a couple of bills on the table before heading for the door. He met Pepper outside on the sidewalk.  
“Where’s Adam?” he asked.  
“Dunno,” she said, spreading her hands. “Gone.”  
“Gone,” he said, passing a hand over his face. “Great.”  
“I don’t like this,” Pepper said.  
“No,” he said. “Neither do I.”  
“Any idea where he might have gone?”  
“No,” he replied. “You didn’t see which way he went?”  
Pepper shook her head.  
“Home maybe?” she offered after a moment.   
She doubted it though, even as she said it. She couldn’t put her finger on why, she just had a gut feeling that home was not where he had gone.   
“Maybe,” Warlock said. He sounded about as doubtful as she felt.  
“We’ll check there first,” Pepper said. “We need to get back to Grace anyway.”  
Warlock nodded in agreement.  
When they rang the bell to Adam’s house, they were greeted by Nanny Ashtoreth, who had Grace comfortably settled on her hip.   
“Where is Adam?” she asked, an expression of concern settling across her features.   
She stood aside to allow them to enter the house.  
“Well, that answers that,” Warlock muttered as they made their way to the sitting room.   
But none of them sat.  
“We were hoping he might have come back here,” Pepper told her.  
“Why?” she said. “What’s happened?”  
“I’m not entirely sure,” Pepper answered.  
“He was acting really weird,” Warlock said. “Weirder than normal.”  
Nanny Ashtoreth pursed her lips and nodded. She didn’t seem surprised. Grace started to squirm, and she set her down. She toddled a few steps forward and then returned to Nanny Ashtoreth’s side and wrapped one chubby fist around Nanny Ashtoreth’s finger. Warlock raised an eyebrow.  
“He stormed out of the café,” Pepper said.   
“Did he say anything?” Nanny Ashtoreth asked gravely. “Before he left?”  
“Nothing that made much sense,” Pepper said. “Something about dreams being memories.”  
“Yeah,” Warlock said. “And he seemed upset that we didn’t remember something about him.”  
Nanny Ashtoreth cocked her head.  
“Well, you wouldn’t r—” she stopped herself. “Never mind.”  
“What?” Warlock said.  
“Never mind,” she repeated. “It’s nothing.”  
“Ok,” Warlock exclaimed, throwing up his hands in frustration. “Is anybody going to tell us anything about what is going on?”  
“I can’t, dear,” she said regretfully.  
“Alright, you know what?” he said. “Don’t ‘dear’ me. That’s not… Don’t you dare. You don’t get to walk out of my life without a trace, not even so much as a ‘goodbye’ and suddenly show up years later, and, and… I don’t… I can’t do this.”  
He scooped up Grace and headed for the door. Her lip began to tremble, and she cried out in protest, reaching for Nanny Ashtoreth, but Warlock paid no mind as he stormed out. Nanny Ashtoreth winced as the door slammed behind him.   
Pepper found herself feeling oddly sympathetic. She had her grievances with the woman on Warlock’s behalf, but she knew pain when she saw it. She shot her an apologetic look before walking out the front door and shutting it gently behind her.  
Nanny Ashtoreth stood motionless, staring at the door. The sudden silence in the house was a vast and terrible thing.


	5. A Very Modern Misunderstanding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley reveals his very limited understanding of the way that humans these days go about marriage. He also reveals to Aziraphale that Adam's condition is growing worse.

Crowley shut the door of the cottage and leaned against it for a long moment, eyes closed.  
“Hello, dear,” Aziraphale said absentmindedly.  
“Did you know,” Crowley said slowly as he opened his eyes, “that Pepper and Warlock are married?”  
Aziraphale looked up from his book and blinked at him.  
“Yes,” he said slowly, giving Crowley an odd look.  
“Wait, you did? You knew? And you didn’t think to mention it?”  
“Why would I—”  
“How long have you known?” Crowley said, cutting him off.  
“My dear,” Aziraphale said, setting his book aside, “we were at their wedding.”  
Crowley had just drawn a deep breath to launch into his tirade properly, but Aziraphale’s words took the wind out of his sails. He stood silently with his mouth open for several seconds. Then he pursed his lips and looked down at the floor for a moment before looking back up at Aziraphale. Aziraphale folded his hands and waited patiently for Crowley to compose himself.  
“What?” he finally said.  
“We were at their wedding,” Aziraphale repeated patiently.  
“I—Nuh,” Crowley replied lamely.  
“Yes,” Aziraphale said evenly. “We were.”  
“When?” Crowley asked.  
“It was… oh, I don’t know. A few years ago. At the park. The one where they met, remember?”  
Crowley stood for a moment searching his memory, trying to figure out what Aziraphale was talking about. Then it dawned on him.  
“The one in London,” he said.  
Aziraphale nodded.  
“That was a wedding?” Crowley said.  
Aziraphale stared at him for a moment.  
“Well of course it was a wedding! What on earth did you think it was?”  
“I don’t know!”  
“How could you not know that it was a wedding?”  
“I was,” Crowley paused and gestured vaguely, “distracted.”  
“Distracted,” Aziraphale repeated. There was a note of dry amusement in his voice.  
“Never mind!” Crowley said, “Forget it.”  
“Consider it forgotten,” Aziraphale said, still sounding slightly amused.  
“You know,” Crowley said after a moment, “I thought she married Wensleydale.”  
“Why on earth would Pepper marry Wensleydale?” said Aziraphale in a perplexed tone.  
“Why does everyone—I mean,” the demon sputtered. “What’s wrong with Wensleydale?”  
“Not a thing,” the angel replied. “I daresay Pepper’s not quite his type though.”  
“What…? Oh. Oh.”  
“You really haven’t been paying attention,” Aziraphale said, raising his eyebrows.  
Crowley opened his mouth to say something in his defense, but he came up empty-handed.  
“Eh,” he managed with a shrug.  
“Hold on,” Aziraphale said, straightening up with a slightly amused expression on his face. “One thing. If you thought that Pepper had married Wensleydale, what in Heaven’s name did you think she was doing living with Warlock? And raising a child with him? You… did notice the child?”  
Crowley gave him a look.  
“I don’t know! I thought—I mean – W—humans these days,” he said, fairly careening through the sentence. He shrugged dramatically. “Very modern.”  
“Modern,” Aziraphale repeated unbelievingly, stifling a laugh.  
“Shut up,” Crowley said.  
Aziraphale held his hands up in a gesture of mock deference.  
“I’ll put on some tea for us then, shall I?” he said.  
“Yes, alright,” Crowley said grudgingly.  
He settled himself on the sofa as Aziraphale went into the other room. He was laughing softly to himself.  
“Modern,” he chuckled under his breath.  
Crowley rolled his eyes.  
Aziraphale returned several minutes later with two steaming cups of tea. He handed one of them to Crowley before settling himself on the couch next to him.  
“Thanks, angel,” he mumbled. Maybe tea was exactly what he needed right now.  
“No trouble, dear,” Aziraphale replied with a warm smile.  
No, Crowley thought. On second thought, maybe that smile was exactly what he needed right now. He reached over and squeezed the angel’s hand. Aziraphale’s smile softened. The two of them sat together in comfortable silence for a while, their fingers loosely interlaced. Crowley absentmindedly traced lazy circles against Aziraphale’s skin with his thumb.  
“So,” Aziraphale said, breaking the silence. “How did you find out? About Warlock and Pepper, I mean.”  
Crowley froze. He drew a slow breath as he released the angel’s hand.  
“I saw him today,” Crowley said softly, setting his cup of tea aside.  
“Oh?”  
“I mean I actually, you know… talked with him.”  
Aziraphale’s eyes went wide.  
“Crowley,” he hissed. “That was reckless. You know why we can’t—”  
“Well, I didn’t do it on purpose,” Crowley snapped, cutting him off.  
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Aziraphale said. “How exactly does one speak with somebody by accident?”  
Crowley sighed and ran his fingers through his hair.  
“Ok,” he said. “Remember this morning, I went to look after a kid for Adam? One of his friend’s kids?”  
“Of course, what--? Oh,” Aziraphale said. “Pepper and Warlock’s daughter.”  
Crowley nodded miserably.  
“And you didn’t ask…?”  
“There was a bit of a… misunderstanding,” Crowley said.  
“Ok,” Aziraphale said, setting his cup of tea down next to Crowley’s. He fidgeted for a moment and then resting his hands flat on his knees. “Ok. We’ll just have to be more careful going forward. I’m sure he didn’t recognize you, and…”  
He trailed off as he saw the expression on Crowley’s face.  
“He didn’t recognize you, did he?”  
“Afraid so,” Crowley said dejectedly.  
“How?”  
“Ah, well….”  
“Crowley,” Aziraphale said in a somewhat chiding tone, “what did you do?”  
“Well,” Crowley said hesitantly, “Adam said to use a disguise, so I…”  
“You didn’t…” Aziraphale said.  
“Afraid I did, yeah,” Crowley answered.  
“Oh dear,” Aziraphale breathed.  
“Yeah.”  
Neither of them said anything for a long moment.  
“So how did he um… how did he take it?” Aziraphale asked.  
“About as well as you’d expect,” Crowley answered.  
Aziraphale winced almost imperceptibly.  
“So, badly then.”  
“Yep,” Crowley said. “Badly.”  
Aziraphale’s expression softened as he laid his hand over Crowley’s.  
“Do you want to talk about it, or…?”  
Crowley shook his head.  
“Rather not,” he said.  
He turned his hand over and laced his fingers through Aziraphale’s. Neither of them said anything for a long moment.  
“There is something we do need to talk about,” Crowley finally said.  
Aziraphale raised his eyebrows expectantly and waited for Crowley to continue.  
“Adam,” he said.  
Aziraphale closed his eyes and nodded.  
“Is he…?”  
“Getting worse,” Crowley said.  
Aziraphale let out a long breath and gazed at the floor for a moment.  
“I feared as much,” he said. “And Pepper, has she…remembered?”  
“Hard to say,” Crowley said thoughtfully. “I didn’t get much chance to talk to her. Just dreams so far, I think. I don’t think she knows they’re… you know, real.”  
“Brian and Wensleydale?”  
“Nothing yet,” Crowley said, shaking his head. “Or at least they haven’t said.”  
“Oh,” Aziraphale said with certainty, “they would have.”  
“Would they, though?” Crowley countered. “It’s not the sort of thing you just… bring up in conversation.”  
“True,” the angel conceded. “But they would at least act differently around Adam.”  
“Mmm,” Crowley murmured in assent.  
“We should call him up,” Aziraphale said. “See if he’s noticed anything.”  
“No good. He’s gone off,” Crowley gestured with his free hand, “I don’t know. Wherever it is he goes off to when he gets like this.”  
“I see,” Aziraphale said.  
They both fell silent for a moment. Aziraphale unentwined his fingers from Crowley’s and put his arm around him, drawing him closer. Crowley leaned into him.  
“Try not to worry about it too much, my dear. It will all work out,” Aziraphale said, with far more confidence than he felt.  
“I hope you’re right, angel,” Crowley said.  
“Of course I’m right,” Aziraphale replied. “Everything will be alright.”  
I’ll make it alright, he thought to himself.  
***  
Aziraphale lay next to Crowley in the dark, listening to the easy rhythm of his breathing. The soft moonlight that crept in from the window gleamed briefly against the plain band on his ring finger as he brushed a strand of hair from Crowley’s face. A faint smile played across his features as he settled back onto the pillows next to him.  
He’d never told Crowley this, but he never actually slept. That was the demon’s choice comfort. Aziraphale, for his part, simply wanted the comfort of being near to Crowley.  
Some nights he read, but not tonight. He had been contentedly watching the shadows that the leaves carved from the moonlight for some time when Crowley started awake next to him. The demon sat bolt upright and drew several deep, shuddering breaths.  
“My dear, what’s wrong?” Aziraphale said, sitting up next to him in concern.  
Crowley didn’t answer. He sat, gasping for breath, eyes wide. Aziraphale turned on the lamp that sat on the table next to the bed before turning back to Crowley. He froze. The whites of Crowley’s eyes had disappeared, completely engulfed by the tawny gold of his irises.  
“Crowley,” Aziraphale said urgently.  
He fought against the rising panic that tinged his voice. At the sound of his name, Crowley flinched. He looked at Aziraphale as if he were only just realizing he was there. He squeezed his eyes shut and grasped Aziraphale’s hand, clinging to it as though trying to anchor himself to his surroundings. He drew several more trembling breaths before he opened his eyes again. He had regained a measure of composure, but his eyes were still purely golden.  
“Crowley,” Aziraphale said, “what is it?”  
Crowley looked at him.  
“Trouble,” he replied.


	6. Prophecy's a Bitch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anathema struggles to balance her efforts to decipher prophesy with spending time with her girlfriend, Victoria.

Anathema sat in Aziraphale’s bookshop, several books of prophecy spread out on the desk before her. They had an agreement that she could have access to his books of prophesy in exchange for minding the shop when he was away. Which, truth be told, was most of the time these days. She had offered to extend the shop’s hours, but he had most adamantly refused her offer.  
He had also been most adamant that she was not, under any circumstances, to allow any harm to come to any of his books. She was fairly certain that ‘on pain of death’ had just been an expression. But not certain enough to take any chances.  
She leaned forward, comparing passages in two of the books. Then she studied a third book for a moment before uncapping her pen and making a quick note in the open notebook in front of her. Her writing grew messier and harder to read the further she went down the page.  
She took her glasses off for a moment and closed her eyes, massaging her temples in a last-ditch effort to stave off the impending headache she could feel coming on. She wished, not for the first time, that she hadn’t been so rash as to burn Agnes’s prophesies. She’d thought at the time that it would set her free.  
Anathema looked up as the bell on the shop’s door chimed. She sighed as she pushed the chair back from the desk and stood up, already preparing a lie about the shop being closed: so sorry, forgot to lock up, it’s after hours actually. She was in no mood to deal with customers. And she very much doubted that whoever it was would have read the convoluted schedule Aziraphale kept posted in the window closely enough to catch the lie.  
She made a move toward the door but turned abruptly back to add one more note to her notebook. Whoever it was could wait a moment to get kicked out of the shop. She paused and pursed her lips as she glanced over the passage in the books again. She jotted down a few more notes before closing the notebook and heading out to deal with the customer.  
As she entered the main area of the bookshop, the woman placed the book she had been idly looking at back on a shelf and turned around. She had short blonde hair and eyes of a brilliant shade of green that was just this side of what one might call ethereal. She flashed Anathema an impish grin.  
“Oh, hey Victoria,” Anathema said, giving her a tired smile. She was equal parts happy to see her and relieved that she didn’t actually have to deal with a customer.  
“Hey, babe,” Victoria said, walking over and wrapping her arms around her. She gave her a quick kiss before flopping down in a nearby chair. “Something told me you could do with an interruption.”  
“Eh. You’re not wrong,” Anathema conceded.  
“I’m never wrong,” Victoria replied with a playful smirk.  
Anathema raised her eyebrows.  
“Well, not about this anyway,” she amended. “Eventually you’d forget to breathe, left to your own devices around here. No pun intended.”  
Anathema arched her eyebrow at the joke.  
“Is that right?” she asked.  
“Mmhmm.”  
Anathema gave her a tired, half-hearted laugh. Victoria sobered somewhat.  
“I’m only half joking, you know,” she said. “You do work too hard.”  
Anathema heaved a heavy sigh.  
“I know,” she said. “I just… don’t know what else to do.”  
“I do,” Victoria said, taking her hand and nodding toward the door. “Let’s get out of here.”  
“Oh, I don’t know,” Anathema said hesitantly.  
“Come on,” Victoria coaxed. “The break will do you good. Maybe help clear your head.”  
“But the books…”  
“Will be here when you get back,” Victoria assured her. “Come on. One night. Have a drink with me. Yeah?”  
Anathema hesitated. She had to figure out the prophesies. She silently cursed herself again for burning Agnes’s. But she was spinning her wheels here. Maybe Victoria was right. Maybe a break would help her to clear her head.  
“Yeah. Ok. Yes,” she said. “Just let me close up the shop.”  
Victoria grinned.  
“Meet you outside,” she said.  
She turned briefly at the door and flashed Anathema a playful wink before letting the door swing shut behind her. Anathema allowed herself a small smile.  
***  
Anathema sat at the small table across from Victoria and tried to keep her mind from wandering back to the prophecy books. She was determined, now that she’d finally allowed herself to be pulled away from her work for long enough to be with Victoria for more than a few minutes, to really enjoy their date. The trouble was that she had been so engrossed in the books for so long that she really didn’t know how to talk about anything else.  
Nothing new there, she thought.  
“So, um… how was your day?” she asked Victoria.  
“Still nothing new.” She gave a languid shrug and swirled what was left of her drink in her glass before finishing it off.  
“Oh, I’m… I’m sorry to hear that,” Anathema said.  
“Oh, it’s not all bad,” she said, flashing Anathema an easy grin. “No commissions just means I get to work on what I want for a while.”  
“I suppose,” Anathema said doubtfully.  
“I mean it,” she said with a laugh. “I really like the way this last piece is turning out. You should see it.”  
“Yeah?”  
“Yeah. I want you to see it. You should come by the studio sometime.”  
“Maybe I will,” Anathema said with a small smile.  
“I’ll drink to that,” Victoria said. She examined her empty glass. “Have to get us another round first though. Same?”  
“Yeah.”  
Victoria planted a brief kiss on her forehead before heading to the bar. Anathema smiled as she watched her go. She was already looking forward to going to the studio again. It had been quite some time since she had been there and seen any of Victoria’s work. She didn’t always fully understand it, but she adored it nonetheless.  
But speaking of things that she didn’t fully understand…  
She sighed and pulled out her notebook, turning to the latest notes she had made. She was deep in thought, hunched over the pages and chewing idly on her fingernail when Victoria returned. Victoria groaned dramatically when she saw the notebook.  
“You brought it with you?” she moaned as she set their drinks down on the table.  
“I’m sorry,” Anathema said sheepishly.  
She moved to put the notebook away. Victoria sighed.  
“It’s ok,” she said. “I get it.”  
Anathema looked at her.  
“I mean it,” she said. “I understand. I do.”  
She pulled her chair over to Anathema’s side of the table and sat down next to her.  
“Alright,” she said. “Let me have a look.”  
“I—Really?”  
“Yeah. Yeah, of course. I mean, you know, I’m shit at prophecy,” she said with a laugh. “But what the hell.”  
“Ok,” Anathema said.  
She laid the notebook open on the table in front of them. The two of them leaned over it and studied the words Anathema had scrawled on the page. Victoria chewed her bottom lip absentmindedly as she tried to make sense of them, the shadow of a frown creeping across her face. Anathema stole a glance at her and smiled faintly.  
“Ok,” Victoria said, straightening up and running a hand through her hair. “I give up. What am I looking at?”  
“Ok, so these two,” she said, indicating two passages near the top of the page, “are really, really similar. I found them in completely different books.”  
“So that probably means there’s something to them, right?”  
“Sort of. Maybe,” Anathema said with a sigh.  
“Sort of?” Victoria said.  
“See, if you take this one though,” she said, flipping back a couple of pages and pointing at a passage, “it completely changes the meaning of this one.” She turned back to the page they had been studying and pointed at the passage on the top of the page. “Same thing with this one and this one,” she said, first flipping several pages back to indicate a fourth passage, and then back to the last page and indicating the second passage on the page.  
“And you have no way of knowing which ones are real, and which ones are…,” Victoria trailed off, leaned back in her chair for a moment, and then looked at Anathema. “This is a nightmare.”  
“Oh, it gets better,” Anathema said. She held up the notebook. “This thing is full of prophecies like those two. And all of them can be taken at least two different ways, most of them more than that. And I’m not even done going through all the books.”  
“Good lord,” Victoria breathed.  
She had never given much thought to the actual process of trying to decipher prophecy with no way of knowing which ones were good and which ones were just plain garbage. She picked up her whiskey and took a long drink before setting the glass back down on the table. Prophecy’s a bitch, she thought to herself.  
Neither of them said anything for a moment.  
“I just wish I hadn’t burned…” Anathema trailed off. “God, that was stupid!” she finished vehemently.  
“Hey, no,” Victoria said softly, facing Anathema and resting a hand on her arm. “You didn’t know. There’s no way you could have known.”  
“Agnes would have,” Anathema replied.  
“But you’re not Agnes,” Victoria said gently. She reached up and tucked a strand of Anathema’s hair behind her ear. “You don’t need to be.”  
“Yeah, well someone does,” Anathema retorted.  
She paused for a moment. Then she sat up straighter and looked at Victoria with a strange intensity.  
“Uh oh,” Victoria said, leaning slightly back. “What, what is that look? I don’t know if I like that look.”  
“Someone does,” Anathema repeated.  
“Not sure I follow you,” Victoria lied.  
The truth was, though, that she did follow her. She was pretty sure she knew exactly where Anathema was headed with this. She’d had the same thought herself. There was a reason she hadn’t suggested it. Well, several reasons.  
“We need to conjure Agnes,” Anathema said intently, gripping both of Victoria’s arms.  
And there it was.


End file.
